Soothing Rain
by Satan's Favourite Kid
Summary: When Dante finally returns to business, it seems that he won't get a chance to even sit down! Rated T for cruelty, violence and cursing.
1. Prologue

**Soothing Rain – A DMC fanfiction**

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from DMC. I wish I did, though.

A/N: This fan fiction has no real timeline. I just wrote this for fun and I know it's not accurate. It's no use to complain about keeping someone in character.

**Prologue – Back in Business**

A man with his hair a little over his ears sat on a green leather chair, looking very bored. His hand leaning on his cheek, he gave an impression of a man who had acclaimed everything he wanted in his life. Topless and wearing black pants and heavy-looking boots, they called him the Son of Sparda, "The human-allied half-demon", Dante. Just Dante.

The room around him looked like a bar, not yet open though. The pool table stood alone in the middle of the room, a garage lamp hanging above. The floor was scraped and dirty, which made it look older than it actually was. The tapestry of the walls was falling off. The whole room looked like straight from a western saloon. Though, the room's disciplined image was broken by a huge row of speakers. If the music was turned on, everyone would know where the party had started.

To many neighbour's joy, the music was turned off. Dante kept sitting on his chair, his legs on the table. The room was silent, too silent so to say. Only the sound of wind blowing outside told him that everyone was alive.

Dante's gaze was locked on something that was far away in the horizon. Usually when people daze off, their gaze wanders in that horizon, but not his. It was as if he waited for someone to pop out from that non-existent entity called "nowhere". The old phone next to him stayed silent.

All of the sudden, Dante heard the sound of footsteps from the door. Perking his head up, he stared now at the door. He didn't bother to swing his legs away from the table. As the footsteps came closer, he could hear the hesitated steps. A couple of second seemed like hours and finally, the door's handle turned slowly. The creaking sound of the door must've startled the incomer, because everything stopped moving for a couple of seconds.

Then, finally the door was opened. Not wide open, only so open that the incomer could pass. The basic gesture of respect to the place, though something told him that this was only cowardly. Dante tilted his head and looked at this quite intriguing incomer. Straightening his back and standing up, he secretly grasped his own gun behind his thigh. After clearing his throat, his voice rumbled throughout the room. "What do ya want, kid?"

Indeed, the incomer was a kid in his eyes. A small boy with a height hardly over a meter looked at him. Probably around his first ten years. He looked so thin that Dante had to wonder how he got the door open. The boy's face was a graceful oval, which gave a lot of people difficulties to see whether he was a boy or a girl. The eyes were light blue, almost white. His hair was messy and no doubt he had tried to comb it this morning without success. He was wearing regular pants and just a simple t-shirt. Considering it was fall now, the boy must've come from a poor family.

The first monotone look on his face changed into an intrigued gaze. The boy wouldn't say anything; he was probably too scared at the moment. He sure had heard his voice, but no reaction.

The older male in the room tried again. "Hey, kiddo, I'd expect you to give an answer. Didn't your mom tell you that?"

This seemed to get the boy's attention. His light blue pierced Dante as he scanned through the old man. A little bored look on his face, Dante sighed. Something was not right about this kid. His hand moving faster than human eye could register, he pointed his gun at the boy.

"The question is … What the fuck do you want from here?" Dante didn't avoid any cursing. This kid probably knew more "bad" words than he did. The boy looked at him, now startled. He opened and closed his mouth, as if he tried to tell Dante something. Dante looked at the boy with evident irritation and shot the floor next to the boy.

Like any normal person would, the boy dodged even if the bullet wouldn't hit him. Rolling to the floor, the boy didn't have the guts to lift his gaze to the now very mad Dante. He wouldn't let his eyes off the boy. He stared at him, the gun pointing straight to the boy's head. He had had too many bad experiences of camouflages in his life.

"I'll ask you once more. Then you'll be dead meat. Either answer and die or just die. What the hell do you want from here? Did the cat steal your tongue?" He asked with a sarcastic tone in his voice.

"No, a demon stole it. And lay off the gun."

Completely caught off guard, Dante pulled out his sword and pointed it exactly at the new intruder. "And what if I don't, punk?" The fact that someone had actually snuck behind him made him even more intrigued. This day didn't turn out to be boring at all. No doubt his beloved brother was AGAIN behind all this.

Remaining silent the new incomer, who Dante couldn't see, chuckled. As soon as Dante's brains could register the amused laughter, he felt a nasty tug. It was as if someone was ripping his arm off. He didn't let go of his sword, and neither of his gun. Black tendril-like strands soon came to his view. Dante tried to gasp in air, but the tendrils tightened their grip of his hand. He couldn't control his hand too much at this rate, but he had still his other hand. A ridiculous mistake from the opponent, he thought amused. No matter how he pulled or tried to fight back, the grip just tightened around his arm. The tendrils were proceeding to strangle him, whereas Dante was proceeding to lure the opponent completely.

A swift move of his hand and he shot the tendrils so many times that he couldn't even count them. Ebony and Ivory, his beloved gun never betrayed him. A low screeching sound … and the tendrils along with the intruder were gone. The little boy still remained on the ground, he had been crying through the whole event.

Shaking his arm in order to get it to feel again, he gazed at the boy. It seemed that he had no other choice. Putting the sword back and pushing the gun's pipe harshly against the boy's forehead, he lifted the boy up quite harshly, pulling only one arm. The boy shrieked a little, but Dante hushed him, his whisper was flesh-piercing.

"You have quite some explaining to do. I don't give a shit if you're mute. That's YOUR problem."


	2. Complex

**Soothing Rain**

Disclaimer: I don't own anything of DMC.

A/N: This story might just be longer than I first thought. Mostly because I like the idea I have for this one. **Constructive** feedback is welcome.

**Chapter 1 – Complex**

After roughly pushing the boy to the room upstairs, Dante closed the door with power. His expression just as frustrated as he was, he put the boy on a chair while he himself went to lock the door. 'No unwanted visitors right now', he thought.

While locking the door with one hand, he never loosened his grip of his gun. He wouldn't be fooled by any weirdo demons. The boy evidently was scared out of his skin, looking around but not daring to spill a single word. If Dante had a moral like any other human had and he wasn't a half-demon … He would've pitied the boy.

But now that he posed a threat, he wouldn't let any more surprises happen. A low 'click' from the door told him that the technical side was _finito._ Quickly moving further to the second chair in the room he sat against his legs a little open so he'd be able to get up faster. Just in case he needed to.

The boy stared at the floor biting his lip. Obviously he was either a damn good actor or really mute. Dante hadn't actually thought further about the "little" problem with communication when it came to this boy. Either he had to find a paper and a pen from all this mess or he had to create a body language.

All of a sudden, he snapped his fingers. The boy almost jumped out of the chair, which made Dante almost laugh. '_Even if this one's a demon, he sure makes himself stand out in a ridiculous way_.' The boy looked up at him, as if to ask why he had done that. Dante brushed his smile away and looked at the boy, not spilling a word either.

The staring lasted for three minutes before the boy finally tried to say something. Too bad trying was always the first step towards failure. The boy looked at the gun and shook his head. Dante shook his head as well. He wouldn't stop pointing with it. It was actually quite practical. Quite a few creatures could lie (aside from various races) whilst being pointed at by a gun that fired ten bullets in a second.

"I'm in the position to demand and ask now, little one." Dante said a low and sinister tone in his voice. He had always hated children. He wouldn't need anyone on his side. From what he had seen of the female race, they were either raging mad or preached about such idiotic things as love, family and moral. No wonder humans died young. They always managed to fuck things up when thinking too much about other things.

"Sit tight and start explaining." The boy let out a high-pitched whine; evidently nothing more could be expected. "I know very well that you can't talk. Try to express yourself anyway." Dante said, almost amused. Though this situation wasn't that funny – he wanted to get things done fast so he could concentrate on the main goal – to kick some demon arse.

A moment of silence embraced them. If the situation had been any else, Dante could have said that he enjoyed the silence. However, things as they were … All the possible sentences were able to make anyone gasp of the terror. Dante wasn't the best of negotiators.

Then out of the blue, the little one started waving his hands frantically and pointed out of the window. Dante couldn't resist the temptation but to look at the other one oddly, tilting his head to the side. From what he understood, there was something "terrible" happening outside.

"And why is there no sound coming outside aside from the wind's annoying pestering?" Dante mumbled now playing with his gun. The boy seemed almost desperate. He started pointing at his own tongue that he had now stuck out rather ridiculously. Dante arched his eyebrow.

"You mean everyone else suffers from this problem of yours?" He asked now a little more relieved. He wouldn't need too much information and the fact that all witnesses were mute made it even easier to Dante's conscience. The boy nodded.

"That's good." Dante said, an insane smirk curling his lips. His face was a lot creepier when he smiled. After fooling around with his gun, he suddenly fired one single bullet at the boy's feet. It didn't hit the boy, on purpose. But the boy got so startled that he swung his legs towards himself which led to nothing good. The chair fell down with the boy.

Dante rose up from his chair and pointed the gun at the little one. "And now, you will tell me who the hell was that creep with his tendrils!"


	3. All About Vergil

Disclaimer: I don't own anything of DMC yadda yadda.

A/N: I hope I won't ruin anything. It's morning when I'm writing this …

* * *

**Chapter 2 – All about Vergil**

"Oh, wait. I can find it out myself." Dante said a bit rhetorically to himself. It was true. He wasn't an idiot. He knew what had happened and who had done it. Right now he didn't do anything with the information on the tendril-fellow. Glancing one last time at the boy on the floor, he felt like he had forgotten something.

Standing there, blank-faced, he couldn't figure out what he had missed there. Tilting his head to the side a little irritated by his own scatterbrain, he turned around and walked straight out of the room. He highly doubted that one single boy would cause any harm. One would think that the little bastard could steal money, food or just something else. Too bad Dante's little business was still at the developing phase. Even if it was open every Saturday. Or at least it was SUPPOSED to be open.

Not bothered at all by the past events Dante walked down the stairs like he always did; quickly and in a certain rhythm. Brushing away the pestering strands of white hair away from his face, he landed on the floor with a slight 'bump' sound lingering around the room. Silence was indeed a positive chance in the plans of the demons. However, this little misfortune here was killing Dante's business. He still had left it nameless.

He walked across the room to the door, where his blood red leather trench was hung to. Kicking the door a little carefully open, he actually swung the coat on. The sound of metal hitting each other was like music to Dante's ears. Even if silence was indeed a good thing, a little rumble at times wouldn't harm anyone. Judging by the burden of choice, this demon was a boring asshole.

And Dante hated boring things and assholes. He walked proudly out of the door, the faint sound of someone walking down the stairs making him smirk like the devil he was.

"Close the door behind you."

* * *

"Did he buy it, Iscariot?"

Vergil's voice lingered in the grand hall. Only a dim light could be seen in the whole room. Even the single breath one took could be heard clearly from anywhere in the room. The air one would breathe felt like lead and weighed a thousands pounds.

From the darkness, two figures could be seen - one sitting in a big throne-like seat and the other one standing next to the second male in the room. Even in such darkness as this, the white hair could be seen. No doubt the one sitting in the throne was Vergil. He had pulled his hair back as always and was wearing now an indigo purple coat with black leather pants and noble shirt. The whole atmosphere seemed to be rotating around him and the red pendant he was wearing.

The other one in the room was unbelievably tall. He stood at the height of nearly two meters. His face was almost perfect. It was as if he had been drawn and built of the best pieces of humankind. His eyes were bright green and shone deathly light. His skin was so pale that one would think he was a doll. Though no little child would play with this doll; he looked like he was Dr. Frankenstein's newest child. He had signs of sewing on his neck, arms, elbows, fingers … on every single main joint. His hair shone even creepier light. The pitch black long plait glowed dark green.

What came to his clothes, well … one must say he looked a little bit off the puzzle. His upper body was covered by a black ripped shirt that seemed to fall off at any moment. He had hid his lower body with dark green pants which made his legs look like fragile sticks. His thin body figure was very visible. On his legs, he wore regular boots. Not exactly regular, though – they could take anyone out with one kick.

None of his appearance's parts made him look like a fighter. However, something about him made one feel extremely nauseous. Vergil had thought of him as a simple person with a simple goal to attain the whole world. But this simple man with his simple plans had turned out to be quite the jigsaw puzzle to him. One moment this man was a boring person with no specific features in his attitude … and the next moment he was raging mad, annihilating every each creature on his way.

"Indeed he did", was all Iscariot said. His gaze wandered around the hall, as if he was rejuvenating it in his mind. Vergil could see this in gaze and how he arched his eyebrow at times when he looked at something in particular. Tilting his head to the side and leaning his head on his palm, Vergil glanced at the weird man. He had no idea where this kind of human could have come from. He was human, not a single drop of demon blood ran in his veins. But if humans could turn into demons, Iscariot would be the first in line.

'_I thought I didn't need anyone to help me … But no one said anything about marionettes.' _Vergil thought, a devious smirk curling up his lips.

He straightened his back and rose up from the throne. Iscariot didn't pay attention at all. He just stared around the room mumbling something to him. Vergil didn't even bother to look at him and kept on walking towards the double doors made of stone. With one little gesture and the door swung ajar. He walked out of the room, the light shining brightly on his face. He could hear Iscariot snap out of his thoughts and follow him.

* * *


	4. Of Pride and Lunacy

**A/N: **Thanks, reviewers. Reviews make me want to continue the story.

I apologize beforehand for any missing words or any typing problems.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything from DMC. Only Iscariot is my character. But he's just a mere human.

* * *

**Chapter 3 – Of Pride and Lunacy**

'_First in line – find out where my dear brother is_', Dante thought sarcastically to himself. For a passing moment he thought that the people would know where he'd be. But then, even if they knew, they'd either wet their pants or run away. He continued to cast the spell of fear and admiration among the humans.

'_Lady._' The thought of the fierce woman passed his mind for no reason – though he had to admit that maybe his rotten luck with women would turn around. He was the only man walking this Earth who could talk. If that creep and probably his brother wouldn't count; something told Dante that those two wouldn't fancy the opposite gender that much.

The sudden flow of thoughts didn't just seem to stop. Once in a while, it wouldn't hurt Dante when he thought about various things. Now he had the spare time. If he didn't find Vergil, then his dear brother would. Even if the tower had gone down for good, Vergil still remained and no doubt this time he chose the underground.

Dante knew how monochromatic his brother was. Vergil was much disciplined and not quite the humour-minded person. It was either up or down. No shortcuts for Mr. Perfect. Dante spat on the ground and gritted his teeth slightly. '_Vergil and his ridiculous plans – the only reason these humans can thank me is Vergil. If this was any other butthead's doing, I wouldn't give a flying cow'_, Dante thought to himself as he kept on walking the empty streets.

No wonder he had the déja-vu. He had walked this same landscape through so many times that he had to wonder if the people really were just dead, not mute. Even while thinking, he was wary of the fact that he was fresh meat for anyone who wanted to fight. He was the liveliest fresh meat in the game.

A low 'crack' sound from behind snapped him completely out of his little current of thoughts. Turning around faster than the possible threat's possible brains could register; Dante had pointed his gun at the newcomer's forehead. To his great surprise, his eyes met with the light blue ones again. Dante couldn't hide his expression anymore. He looked like he was going to say: "What the hell?! You again?!"

The boy seemed startled again. Well, Dante hadn't made this life easier for him … Staring at the gun's pipe; he thought he saw the bullet's head. Turning his head to see Dante's eyes, the poor boy lifted his hand in front of his face. Dante looked at him as he was nuts. No freak would follow him like this. Especially not this one, he had almost died in the process of meeting Dante.

"Sheesh. Go home; your daddy must be _speechless_ with worry." He said sarcasm in his voice. He lowered his guns but didn't let the guard down. Looking around, he saw some lights in the windows. '_So they're really alive?_' He thought as the boy's gaze followed his own.

Out of the blue, Dante had moved next to the boy and quite harshly threw him on his shoulder and said firmly: "I've never needed help. It's time for you to go home." It didn't matter to Dante whether the house with the lights on was full of demons or not, at least the boy should stay out of the way. Why did the town send a boy to seek help? For a second Dante thought that the society had finally reached the bottom.

He felt quite a nasty sound just next to his ear. While he had carried the boy towards the filthy-looking house, the boy metamorphosed into a rebellion. He started to hit and punch Dante to the back and tried to reach Ebony and Ivory without success. Gritting his teeth frustrated Dante sighed deep. With one accurate move, he hit the boy's back to the centre. Two mere seconds of trying to fight back and the boy lost his consciousness.

"Wow, no wonder his father told to go out alone. It's as if he's a - wait. Oh shit." Dante looked around him. Out of nowhere, a group of the Seven Hells had appeared. Staring at each lesser demon, Dante's shoulders lowered and his voice a little disappointed, he shouted out: "Oh, come on! Just go home to your little papa Vergil."

The demons didn't react; instead they started moaning their endless agony. "I figured as much." Dante spat out. Whilst trying to keep the boy unconscious and the guns pointed at every each of Vergil's little sweethearts he had to admit that he had wasted his time thinking about things. Sighing deeper, he fired the first bullet of instant annihilation. "This party is even lousier than the previous one."

* * *

The sounds of fighting resembled the sounds of thunderstorm. The sky was grey; rain wouldn't be a great surprise. The air was cold and lacked oxygen, which made the two fighters' breathing white and noisy.

Vergil's voice pierced the air just like his sword would. "Not good enough!" Everything about Vergil seemed to pierce something. His opponent didn't show any signs of attention, but slightly strengthened his attacks. Iscariot was full of little scratches, but his face remained the same. The only change in his appearance was his heavy breathing. At times Vergil was glad that his little 'apprentice' was just a mere human who would die and didn't stand up and revive like his little brother.

Ever since Arkham had proven to be useless, Vergil had thought how much Iscariot resembled him. Maybe the only thing different among these two entities were the facts that Iscariot was just a human and he had a family. Indeed he had had a family. Too bad he had abandoned them. Maybe Vergil wouldn't be luring his brother to a trap again if Iscariot didn't exist.

Iscariot's foot got too close to his face. Instantly trying to slash it, Iscariot lifted his left hand and the sword hit the steel gauntlet. Iscariot had attached blades on his boots. They were shaped crescent moon, which reminded Vergil of the reaper. Dodging Iscariot's attack Vergil jumped on a boulder and brushed his hair strands away from his face.

Iscariot saw his chance coming and at the same moment Vergil's hand rose to his eye's level, he ran at the boulder's base and kicked it. Two heartbeats and the whole monument cracked. Vergil almost let his guard down and jumped away from the falling stones. At the same moment Iscariot was in front of him and kicked the sword away from him.

For a second Vergil thought that Iscariot had finally gotten him. But Iscariot proved to be loyal enough to wait for Vergil's sword to automatically come back to him. He was already waiting for a counterattack, which never came. A little bewildered, Iscariot stared at Vergil.

Vergil tried to look as calm as he could. Iscariot had acted like he appreciated Vergil's gestures, but in reality he had ignored all of them in order to plant the fatal strike which he of course didn't do. And to think that he and Dante had a chat moment always before fighting each other.

The silence was disturbing; any sound would make the atmosphere a little lighter. Both of them were gambling on each other's weaknesses, analyzing the chances to win this duel.

All of a sudden Vergil sheathed his sword. "Iscariot, if you want to win Dante, try to fight him."

Iscariot looked around him and shrugged. "I would if he wasn't right now carrying my son while being surrounded by all the seven hells."

Vergil stared at the other man, not even trying to hide his overwhelm. First of all, why the hell would Dante care about a kid? And second, why the hell would Iscariot care? Again Iscariot had proven to be wearing a mask all the time.

"… I might've forgotten to tell you about my little son." Iscariot said a faint smile on his lips. "Don't worry, he's a good kid. I doubt he even knows about me." He continued. Vergil had managed to put his mind off the fight and onto this new twist of events.

After three seconds of silence Vergil spoke out. "Indeed trust nothing." Grasping his pendant he scraped it a bit and a little shard of the bloody diamond was soon on his palm. He looked at Iscariot and continued; now his voice lower than ever. "I'll give you a gift. I'm sure your son will like it."

Moving swiftly in front of Iscariot, he pushed brutally the shard inside Iscariot's chest, where the heart was supposed to be. Smiling maniacally Vergil turned his fingers inside Iscariot's chest and then pulled his hand out, all bloody.

Coughing up blood, Iscariot fell down to the floor and held the wound with both hands. His eyes met Vergil's for a second. Vergil chuckled.

"Don't worry; your heart won't be resurrected. And now you will obey me completely. Never hide anything from me from now on."

Vergil walked out of the room, leaving the bleeding man on the floor.

* * *


	5. Seize the day

**Disclaimer: **DMC belongs to Capcom …

**A/N: **Probably three or more chapters until the end. Though I was thinking of a sequel last night. I shalt see.

* * *

**Chapter 4 – Seize the day**

After a moment of fighting Dante thought that the fight had been going for too long. Reaching to his pocket, he pulled out a small little bottle. It was shining brightly, as if energy of a century had been preserved inside. A low whine from the root of his ear told that the boy was coming to. Quickly throwing the bottle, he said: "Die, die darling."

The sound of glass breaking seemed to linger everywhere. It was as the time had stopped for a mere second. A blinding shade of white spread out. Dante didn't wait for the final effect and started running, jumping on the wall to get out of the way as soon as he could. Just as the first signs of explosion could be heard, Dante along with the boy hid to a small space between two houses. Dante could see parts of the demons fly past them and he couldn't help it but to laugh out loud.

Suddenly he felt kind of a tight tug on his sleeve and his bewildered eyes met the little ones. Arching his eyebrow he muttered: "You really take more out than bring in." The boy didn't say anything, mostly because he couldn't say anything. Pouting slightly he obviously tried to convince Dante that he wasn't afraid of him. Grimacing not-so-sweetly Dante swung the boy off his shoulder. The boy's reaction was the same as always, a weird yelp sound and a terrified stare.

All of a sudden the air was pierced by a high-pitched shriek that wasn't human. Their reactions varied. Dante looked furiously around, cursing for not paying attention. The little boy covered his ears and closed his eyes. When it was over, the boy wouldn't let go. Dante looked at him in misbelieve. Why was he even carrying this boy around? Maybe he just didn't want to be like his brother, instantly annihilating _humans._

"Monkey hears monkey sees huh?" He blurted out sarcastically. The boy looked at him, shaking his head. For a moment Dante thought the boy was going to cry. Shaking his head he turned around, ready to abandon the boy. The boy yelped and reached his hand out to Dante, trying to form comprehendible words. Suddenly the boy seemed to invent something. Out of pure curiosity Dante just had to look what he tried to do. The boy took a small stick that was still burning and started to scribble something on the wall. He had to take a little closer look to see the carbon writing.

The boy's handwriting was kind of hard to read; obviously he had missed his schools. Slowly but surely a word appeared on the wall. _'Daniel._' Dante looked at the boy a little odd feeling inside him now. Too much similarity in these names. The boy pointed at himself and then at the name on the wall. Dante grunted and snarled: "I get it! Your name is Daniel all right!" The boy looked at him like a madman and then nodded.

Dante could see the fear behind Daniel's calm eyes. Obviously he was scared that he'd cause a misunderstanding which would lead to something not very good. He wrote another word a little carelessly, which made Dante irritated. He had to try and figure what he had written. The word resembled like 'bother'.

"Yeah, you bother me." He muttered while the boy started to wave his hands frantically, seemingly angry. He scratched off the previous word and now wrote a very easy word. "_Papa._" Dante almost burst out laughing. The only reason this boy had stalked him was because of _papa_?!

"Hey, hear me now. I don't care where you father is or what he's done and whatnot. Actually, you are of no use to me. Go home." Dante said all in one moment. The boy seemed to not understand it at first, but then lowered his shoulders and nodded. Dante put his hands on his hips and smirked. "Now that's what I call obedient." For the third time today, he felt a tug on his sleeve. Daniel looked at him like he was sentenced to death. Dante took one step backwards by the boy's sudden change of attitude. "Hey, what the hell? Go home already!" He yelled at the boy's face.

Daniel stayed still and pointed at himself, then at the wall and then started to wave his hands like --- tendrils. Dante's eyes widened and he had to lean on his thighs in order to kneel down a bit. "Is your father a demon, huh?" Dante asked a little bit hesitant. Daniel could just lie in order to hang with him or who knows if he wanted to assure his own safety. The tendril-guy didn't seem like the usual father figure, but when he thought about his own father … He had gone through a long process to settle the mess Sparda had left behind.

"If you're shitting me now, twerp, you're going to DIE. Do we have an understanding?"

A nod.

"Good. And I suppose your 'mama' has died?"

A nod again, now a little restrained.

'_Damn, if I didn't know better, his father could be Arkham and he could be Lady or Mary …_' Dante thought a little melancholy in his voice. It really intrigued him … Last time he had seen Lady was quite not the best opportunity to ask questions. And Arkham was quite sure dead when he had seen him last time. But who knows …?

"Do you not realize that I'm going to kill your father, Daniel?" The boy's name was somehow unnatural to say, because it resembled too much his own name. They had spent way too much time here, the demons wouldn't wait. Looking around anxiously for something to get them to move faster, his eyes landed upon a motorcycle. A devious smirk on his lips once again, Dante looked as determined as ever and walked towards the vehicle. He could faintly hear Daniel's gasp and the noise he made as he tried to approach without hurting himself. Shaking his head he sat down on the seat and checked the power lock. The key was still there. He had a wild guess and thought that maybe people got a little shocked by this new evil stealing their voices off.

He ran his fingers down the cold metal surface and whistled. "Oh baby." He turned around to see Daniel struggling with walking. Tilting his head to the side and sighing in disbelief he turned the power lock. The boy ran faster when he heard the motor growl. When he was about a meter away from Dante, he threw the boy on the back and told to sit tight.

"This vehicle doesn't have seatbelts, but I'd recommend you to hold onto something." He said before speeding off, against a wall. The boy's nails seemed to dig into his flesh, but the sensation of pain and speed was Dante's drug of choice.

Daniel hadn't answered to the question about his father, but if he came with him, he knew what was ahead.

* * *

'_Bah, I knew he wasn't worth my time…_'

A rustling sound echoed in the hallway as Vergil eyed the pendant. He had wasted a shard of it to make Iscariot become a part of him that obeyed no matter what. If his son was coming here with that Dante-scum, Vergil had to make sure it wouldn't be easy.

The old towns that had been built under the main town had been proven to be quite useful. No soul dared to set a foot there. Miraculous enough, a lot of the buildings were exactly Vergil's type. The stairs were endless, but if you knew where to go, it wouldn't take more than a couple of seconds to get from the top to the bottom.

Vergil walked down a staircase that had been abused quite harshly. Holes, fragile spots and blood everywhere; it was evident that Vergil had gotten more demanding as time had passed. No lesser demons were allowed to walk the floor of this tower – and even the higher demons weren't that welcome. Actually the only souls that were allowed to walk these stairs were Vergil and Iscariot. And now not even him. Vergil smirked as the feeling of superiority embraced him.

Ripping off all the power source items he had in the building, he threw them all around, and embedded some in stone, where they couldn't be seen. As he passed a door, it was set on eternal fire of hell. It would take a lot of effort from Dante to get through these. Vergil's plan hadn't been going quite the way he had planned; it had turned out better than he thought. Iscariot's son wasn't a surprise, after Arkham's betrayal, nothing couldn't possibly surprise Vergil that much – though he had to admit that he was quite impressed by the fighting skills Iscariot had developed in such little time.

When he had reached the bottom level, he looked at the chaos he had caused. "Oh sweet silent chaos, please take care of my brother. He needs something to do." Vergil said silently as he continued to walk to the basement where he was destined to fight Dante. Unless Dante wanted to get it outside, that is.

* * *

Iscariot tried to open his eyes, but even the slightest light made them almost burn. He made a contract with his eyes and closed them, while getting up carefully. Every single movement he had to do felt like knives raining on him. The crescent blades were like shackles. Lifting his upper body up like a ghost, he touched his chest. He didn't feel a thing. Opening his eyes slowly, he could see the change in his appearance. His face had remained the same if the dried blood flakes falling off didn't count. But his chest was almost black. It seemed like he had a black enigma tattooed on his chest. Touching it again, he could see his finger being swallowed.

Lifting his gaze to the ceiling, he looked at the carved stone and its details. It wasn't hard to figure out.

He wouldn't be leaving this room. Never. Maybe he would get a chance to meet that Dante and his son here. Hiding to the shadows, his eyes glowed white in the darkness. He would wait for an eternity. He had been foolish. None should ever trust a second-party.

Even if his mind was eager to slaughter Vergil, his body refused to even move further. A melancholy like a tornado in his eyes, the living marionette laid himself down to the floor, waiting for his fate.


	6. Trust No Tomorrow

**A/N: **Gosh, sorry for the long while! I bought a new laptop and it doesn't support Microsoft Word - so unless I get that software, I can't upload the sixth chapter unless I write it again with Microsoft Works. Which I don't like. - -'' Anyway, enjoy and review.

**Disclaimer: **This should be a given … DMC belongs to those Capcom guys.

**Chapter 5 – Trust no tomorrow**

Dante felt like he was a god. The only thing in this world defying him was the wind. Turning the handle again, the motorcycle seemed to break every each law of nature. Smiling like a devil taking people's souls, he rode wherever he wanted - but still he had a goal. Daniel had clung to him like the last strand of his life. Suddenly Dante noticed that he had driven out of the city's centre.

He noticed an entrance to the sewers. His senses had worked all right, even while endorphins had mingled in his veins. Kicking the brake pedal like mad, the bike rotated a couple of times before it finally stopped. Dante glanced at the ground below. He could smell the burnt rubber. Licking his cracked lips, he bawled: "Oh yeah baby! The whole place smells like Vergil - And Vergil always means party!"

Turning off the engine, Daniel let go just in time to witness his travelling companion jumping off the chopper. Thanks to his small height, Daniel had to struggle a bit to get off the bike. Dante had already entered the sewers. Daniel freaked out and tried to shout, but obviously he couldn't. Thinking that he would occasionally notice his absence, Daniel decided to stay near. He sat down behind the bike and took a stick from the ground. He couldn't defend himself, but that was okay. He couldn't even talk. The eternal night surrounding the city made it even scarier for a simple 7-year old boy. Biting his lips Daniel hugged his knees and tried desperately to not make a sound. That would be something that Dante would want him to do. Even in such a short time, Daniel had figured the most of Dante's principles.

* * *

Against the small boy's wishes, Dante knew very well that the boy wouldn't follow him further. He wouldn't need a small boy's help, though he'd be a great distraction when fighting the tendril-guy. Now that he thought about it, the tendrils weren't a part of his body. It was an extension that had been embedded inside the guy. So if he could dig the embedded object out of Iscariot's body, he'd remove his special powers; literally. Walking through the smelly sewers, Dante let his sixth sense lead him. There was no way he'd find Vergil by just running through this filth over and over again.

Soon he had ran in the middle of an old town-like structure. All he could see was chaos ridden stairs. "It even LOOKS like Vergil." He said, clearly amused. He looked at the whole environment - Vergil must've planned a lot of fun for him. He headed for the highest floor - since it was the only door that wasn't on fire or inpenetrable at the moment. He kicked the door down and looked at the darkness. Nothing could be seen - except for a small puddle of blood on the floor. He could sense a weird aura - which resembled his brother's aura but clearly wasn't his.

Suddenly, he saw a dark figure in the darkness. He wouldn't wait for the creature to attack him. He shot ten bullets at it, where the heart would be. Against his predictions, all the bullets were sent back. All he could see was shining metal whirling. He arched his eyebrow, a bit surprised. If there was one thing he knew, it was that Vergil wasn't capable of working with someone else - mostly because he was a damn egoist. Now a lot more intrigued by the new tension, he chuckled: "Oh, you must be the _papa._" The guy in the dark didn't pay any attention; he had sheathed his sword and kept walking towards him. "How did you ever manage to get a son? No babe would walk here."

A voice from the darkness chuckled and said: "_Your sense of humour is tremendous, traitor. But, Daniel isn't quite the normal son of a normal woman. Actually he's just a filth that I can't wash off._" Not paying attention to the man's little preach, Dante heard clearly the sound of metal hit the floor every time this creep walked closer. Was there something on his feet as well? He raised his sword and spoke out now amused: "Well, he can be glad he doesn't look like you."

"_Shut your big mouth and fight._" Iscariot spoke, his voice now demanding. Dante chuckled and tried to imitate his voice. "I'll shut up, oh please, be gentle to me?" Amused 'humph' lingered in the sewers. The next moment the man had attacked Dante with a high kick. Dante dodged it easily and twisted the leg so that Iscariot whirled in the air as he had kicked himself off Dante's grip. The bullets wouldn't hit the opponent. He had copied all of Vergil's moves and fused them together to create new moves.

"And say what? Your own son wanted me to kill you. Isn't that so sweet of him?" Dante tried to use some of his knowledge on emotional things. As a human Iscariot should have given all he got or at least part of it when he first saw Dante … but he didn't. He had copied Vergil's moves so perfectly that for a moment Dante had to wonder if Iscariot was just a doppelganger demon who had just taken the turn to the worst …

Iscariot showed no signs of taking Dante seriously, or more rather, even listening to him. Continuing the same attacking pattern and observing his opponent Dante's mind suddenly realized the disturbing part of it all. Where was Vergil? Suddenly he had felt his presence and then it seemed like it was nowhere near. Bewildered, he started slightly moving towards the exit as they fought. No matter what Vergil's plan was, Dante's nature told him to finish this little pestilence off and hurry to see where Vergil was.

All of a sudden, Dante left both his guns and unsheathed his sword. Any unnecessary thoughts would disturb him, so he abandoned them, as if his thoughts were separate objects. Iscariot changed his stance as well, keeping his arm gauntlets in front of all his vital organs. A bullet could be easily dug out from his organs using demonic blood but … if they were pierced with that sword; instant annihilation.

Dante smirked and swung his blade to his side, so that he could drag it with him. He ran towards Iscariot with superior speed and swung the blade towards Iscariot's left side. Iscariot dodged it just in time. At the very same moment Dante abandoned his target and swung the blade towards Iscariot's head. Dodging this by falling down to the ground, Dante smiled like a devil and pointed his gun at Iscariot's head.

While they had fought in close range, Dante had fooled Iscariot to be near him and had fooled his nerves in order to make him believe that he would only fight with the sword. Not saying a thing, Dante fired the bullet and didn't even bother to wipe off the blood on his face. He stared at the probably dead figure at the floor, the pool of blood spreading quickly. One last morbid twitch of Iscariot's hand made Dante almost laugh. He fired a couple of bullets and watched the figure on the sewer's dirty water. The dark green-shaded hair seemed to turn into seaweed.

For a moment Dante thought about Daniel – his expression and thoughts when he'd see this. He probably wouldn't. Dante cracked his neck and shrugged his shoulders lightly. "And now, onto the next target … This party is just getting started!" He started walking rabidly towards the exit, where he felt the demonic aura come from. All of a sudden he mumbled to himself:

"Damn, I have a feeling that I've already said that somewhere … Oh well."

* * *

A faint 'crack' sound woke Daniel up from his nightmares. He must've fallen asleep while he had bravely guarded the bike. Looking around him frantically, the poor boy didn't seem to notice the man standing right in front of him. When his gaze landed on the boots, Daniel screamed and tried to stand up and run. His attempts were useless; the man grasped his neck and lifted him violently up to meet his opponent's eyes. Daniel tried to struggle, but the silent sound inside his head told him that it was no use.

Finally giving in to the fear, he gazed at the other's eyes. His eyes widened as he tried to form the words, but he knew that he couldn't. Irritation giving him power, he struggled and screeched between his breathing: "YOU?!" The man who was trying to kill him looked like Dante, though his clothing was nowhere near Dante's. He seemed like a more formal – and yet more cruel – version of him. Staring at the man, rest of Daniel's body gave in and he just hung there, his mind occupied with many things. Why was he able to talk now? Did it mean that Dante had lost …? Or was Dante with this guy all along? Just who was this guy?

Then it came to him. Dante had shouted something when he had sped off … '_The whole place smells like Vergil - Vergil always means party!_' He came back to his senses and fought back, with no use. Maybe it was the hidden delight to get back his voice, he blurted out: "You're Vergil, aren't you?! Let me go!" He screamed at the bottom of his lungs – even if his bronchus was currently being very narrow. Struggling more and more, Vergil let go and threw him to the ground.

"It's your time to realize what merit you are to me." Vergil said his voice cold and maybe a little amused by the little boy's suffering.

"Veeeeeergil! Play with the children YOUR age."

Vergil turned his head towards the way too familiar sound. Tilting his head he sighed. "It's a shame; really … I don't have time to play with you …"

Black and grey tendrils of smoke whirled around him. He grasped the boy's arm. Daniel tried to scream, but Vergil eliminated his attempt by putting his palm tightly against the boy's nose and mouth. A couple of moments and the boy lost his consciousness.

"…" Dante remained quiet and just looked at his brother. "My, but your little puppet has already lost. Won't you REALLY have at least a little time for your dear sibling?"

Vergil smirked. "How tender of you … But Iscariot was just a way to slow you down a little. Farewell." Vergil grasped Daniel's hand and waved it to Dante, only his eyes conveying the message of malice to touch a human.

After a second Vergil was gone. Dante sighed. "Hmph. Have it you way then ..."

* * *


	7. Let the Rain Fall Down

A/N: The problem is fixed! Now I can continue updating the story.

**Chapter 6 – Let the Rain Fall Down**

The horrible sight lay in front of Daniel's eyes. Whenever he tried to turn away, Vergil forced him to watch at his father again and again. Closing his eyes, determined that it wasn't his father, Daniel whimpered as he tried to fight back the tears. One moment he had been unconscious and the next he woke up, completely smeared in blood – next to his father's dead corpse. He had no clear thoughts in his mind; only a faint plea trying to get out – Why?

"It's no use to struggle. Iscariot saw all this trouble to save you … and yet, he failed. It's a shame I didn't notice earlier so you wouldn't have dragged Dante here." Vergil said, not affected by the boy's emotional overwhelm. His voice had a hint of self-punishment in it. As if to say: "Not good enough."

Tears now ran down Daniel's cheeks. Of course his father had sacrificed himself for Daniel. And yet, he had ruined it. '_Dad died for nothing …_' He thought, his face covered with the darkness of guilt. He turned his gaze towards Vergil. Why would a son of Sparda be interested in him, a son of a regular man and woman? He saw nothing special in neither of them. His mother had died when giving him birth and his father had made a living by selling drugs. Iscariot was wise enough to not use them himself – therefore he was able to fool the junkies.

"Wh-What did Dad do to deserve this?" Daniel asked, staring at his palms. They were bloody. He lifted them and tilted his head. "All he did was sold drugs in order to keep us alive..." Vergil looked at him; a hint of confusion in his eyes. "What, you were going to assassinate him even though you didn't know what he REALLY does for a living?" Daniel's eyes darted on Vergil. "I wasn't going to assassinate him! Just free him from the curse you had cast!" The little boy retorted bravely. Vergil pushed the boy's retorts aside and took a tight hold of Daniel's jaw. He turned Daniel's head forcefully from left to right, analyzing the words.

"Maybe your father really WAS an idiot. He should've hidden this a little bit better …" Vergil said, wiping off some kind of weird makeup that was on Daniel's forehead. He recognised the spell – only the ones who knew it was there could dispel it. Vergil smirked as Daniel tried to hide the mark. It was evident – this boy's mother hadn't been any regular woman. The dark red tattoo that resembled a ruby was now completely visible. The Red Ruby family – no fool would stand against that family. Aside from the demons, of course – and demons weren't fools. They were ambitious and sought for the prestige. Anyone who sacrificed Ruby blood would gain immortality. The hard part of it was the fact that one would have to be able to shed the elder blood and get the youngest branch – also, the Ruby family was at the edge of distinction. The Ruby's had been an inbred family for a long time, until they gained acceptance by mortals. Iscariot, the son of George, a regular junkie, had married Lady Sabriel, the last full-blooded Ruby in the world. Their only son, Daniel, had been a tough one for Sabriel to give birth to. Lady Sabriel who had not a slight tint of humanity in her hadn't been able to survive. However, thanks to the modern technology, their son was left alive.

Vergil sensed Dante approaching. His reckless attitude was easy to track down. Vergil grabbed Daniel from his right arm and drew a circle on the ground, slashing his sword faster than light. Soon, a circle filled with a lot of letters and numbers was created. The whole sewers seemed to fall down. Vergil chuckled and slashed Daniel's arm a little, so that a bleeding wound appeared. Ignoring Daniel's various attempts to break free, Vergil grabbed Daniel's arm so that the blood oozed from the wound. Just as Vergil had expected, instead of leaving a mark on the floor, the blood seemed to dwell into the ground.

"See? Your blood can create a barrier that no one can pass – and you can't die unless someone casts a deadly curse on you – and that curse has been running down your family for centuries. Too bad your mother was willing to sell it for her life … Which she didn't get. Casting that spell will take several days but I'm sure that you'll live. For the while, that is." Daniel gazed up at him, terrified. He couldn't believe what Vergil was saying and thought that maybe he tried to confuse him. He closed his eyes and said something that he had learnt from his father: "Bullshit!"

Vergil looked at the kid – a bit dumbstruck. "… You've been way too much with Dante." He said firmly and tightened his grip of the wound, so the blood oozed even faster. Daniel whimpered and tried to tremble free. "Hmph."

All of a sudden, dark red and black tendrils of smoke surrounded them and in a mere second, they were gone.


End file.
